Aizome
by yume girl 91
Summary: Something happens during a routine Hollow fight leaving Ichigo and Rukia with 'different' partners. Can they learn to work with each other's Zanpaku-to or will they find another thing coming to them instead? Tensa ZangetsuxRukia, IchigoxSode no Shirayuki
1. Chapter 1

The first moment of consciousness was disorienting. Of crazily tilted buildings and black that hovered at the edge of her vision. _Black..?_ Rukia's mind tried to connect these surroundings to those that had filled her waking vision beforehand_. An empty alley and Hollows._

_That's right!_ Her eyes snapped open. There had been Hollows-which wasn't surprising since the region of Karakura town was a magnet for the loathsome beings. Too quickly she tried to scramble up, concrete rippled below her vision.

"Steady." A hand caught at her shoulder, maintaining a light grip as she gratefully closed her eyes, breathing in and out. "Thanks.." she tried when her head felt less lightheaded. The other said nothing, keeping a silence that while wasn't annoying felt somehow comfortable.

"Where-" turning to the side where she sensed the other knelt, she came face-to hood with a young male. "W-who-!"

His thin mouth visible from the lower half of his uncovered face, adopted a slight, sardonic hint to it. "I might ask you the same. That is..more along the lines of why do you have **me** at your waist?"

Her mouth opened in a retort that _she didn't know what the hell he was talking about as the only sword she had ever wielded was Sode no Shirayuki_...but the words died a slow death in her throat. Her gaze traveling over the flared open white-trimmed black coat that had replaced her Shinigami uniform. Beneath it, for modesty's sake, she wore a short skirt, white bandages covered her torso and peeked out from the top of the V-necked collar, covering her petite breasts.

"The hell..." Rukia was aware of mounting panic rising inside her. Her hand as had been accustomed to doing whenever she had felt a need for reassurance beyond words, slipped over the long black and red diamond-patterned hilt stuck through the sash-like ribbon at her waist.

Her fingers encountered the square four-pronged guard.

_This wasn't Sode no Shirayuki_.

With effort, she kept up her facade of composure. To show undue panic now would be to disgrace the Kuchiki name. So, she _looked_. Raised her head defiantly and looked straight into the faintly amused face of the Zanpaku-to; though never having seen him before, knowing instinctively who he was.

"Where is Sode no Shirayuki?" she asked in her best, no-nonsense tone.

"Shouldn't it be with **whom**?"

(~*~**~*~*~**)

It was snowing. Ichigo immediately detected the abrupt change in the temperature as cold flakes clung and melted through his shihakusho, trickling into freezing droplets rolling down his skin. _Why was it snowing, though? Shouldn't old man Zangetsu have pulled him into the mindscape-or-or if he had just passed out...why would he be dreaming of a snowy plain?_ Thinking had never been Ichigo's forte, rather jump in with barely a conceivable notion on how to get out forming.

_He remembered backing up Rukia and her yelling at him that she could handle it herself...but wasn't there something that came after-?_

He was sure there was- however as he tried to recall that oh, so important missing thing- Ice gripped his throat. Ichigo likened the sensation to a collar made of ice cubes that suspiciously felt like delicate fingers clasping his flesh. As he began to struggle, his eyes stared into the most beautiful blue orbs he had ever seen. A pale white woman crouched over him, her voice a deadly icicle-thin whisper.

"Where...is Rukia?"

(~*~**~*~*~**)

"Please calm down, Ms. Kuchiki."

Urahara's very calm, laissez-faire tones aggravated her.

"What do you mean? I am calm!" Stamping her foot, Rukia glowered at the innocent air the shopkeeper was affecting. For the last hour he had been trying to convince them-namely herself as Ichigo was still suffering the effects of frostbite that Inoue was trying to treat with little success; of the non-disaster their switching of Zanpaku-tos entailed.

Unexplainable yes-

Disastrous consequences-no

Rukia could've screamed, desiring nothing but to punch the source of her rage into tomorrow. Though that meant risking her panties showing...as it seemed for the thousandth time the pervy former Taichou's eyes made an x-ray scan over the very short skirt and lingered on her bosom as if willing the skimpy coat to simply disappear.

"I must say, Ms. Kuchiki..you look quite lovely tonight!" Urahara chirped.

"Wha-! I-I didn't choose to be outfitted like this!" she grabbed the ragged ends of the coat, shaking them in emphasis. "Yeah!" Ichigo piped up, his nose decidedly less blue. Stumbling to his feet, he moved away from Inoue's overly friendly hands. "That's my ban-kai the midget stole! I mean mine-is er...cooler.." slanting his eyes surreptitiously away. "Lacking a mini-skirt and all-"

Her punch flew into his gut seconds later.

"Oh! But, Kurosaki-kun would look so adorable in a skirt!" Inoue clasped her hands and dreamily imagined.

Everyone ignored her.

"Ah, well...I do have a theory on that." Urahara waved his fan in Rukia and Ichigo's direction. Releasing the handful of his kimono, she stepped back, placing a hand on each hip. "Well? Let's hear it!"

"Yare-yare..patience is a virtue, Ms. Kuchiki."

"Not with her it isn't." Ichigo muttered, earning him a sharp glare highly reminiscent of Byakuya's. Wisely he put his palms up in silent total surrender. Rukia sniffed haughtily, "I happen to have a high amount of **virtue**, thank you very much."

Amber eyes rolled heavenward, "yeah..that's a little hard to imagine with you dressed like that."

His foot became the next victim.

Rukia ignored his holler, instead turning sharp violet eyes to Urahara's innocent fanning. "I'm waiting!"

"Hmm..oh! Oh, yes!" His staged act didn't fool her. She could tell he'd been fantasizing about the dangerously creeping hemline when she had been trying to thrash Ichigo. _Pervert_..

"Well! As we all know, Kurosaki-kun releases mass amounts of spirit pressure like an overflowing tap that someone forgot to turn off." This earned Urahara a heavy glower. "The off-shoot is that his Zanpaku-to never has to be released in shikai and is overwhelmingly large!"

"So, what? I happen to like Zangetsu the way he is!" the orange-haired sub scoffed.

"Moving on-moving on!" Urahara cheerfully disregarded him. "So, it stands to reason that Ms. Kuchiki here-" Rukia tilted her chin up, pursing her lips in a frown. "-Whom possesses much less reiatsu and is a lot less powerful than Kurosaki-kun-"

"-hey!" she snapped to attention, sensing the underlying insult.

"No offense meant, Ms. Kuchiki." Urahara placated with a mysterious smile that instantly gave her the creeps. "All I'm trying to say is, Kurosaki-kun's Zanpaku-to transformed into a more _compact_ katana with the change in ownership."

Her brow rose, "it's not permanent is it? I mean I won't stay with Mr. dark and mysterious forever, right?"

"Don't forget me with Ice woman! I don't want her either!" Ichigo threw in scowling.

Rukia turned to him then, a vein twitching dangerously over her eye. "Ice woman? How dare you talk about the most beautiful Zanpaku-to in all of Seireitei in such a manner, you ingrate baka!"

"Ingrate baka!" Ichigo roared, becoming quite red in the face.

They got in each other's faces despite the differences in height.

"Actually you could say that now Sode no Shirayuki is the most beautiful Zanpaku-to in the living world." Urahara pointed out helpfully, grinning from ear to ear.

"You shut up!"

The shopkeeper chuckled, unfazed. "I cannot say if this permanent or not, however, I do expect things to continue on as they have- with a slight change in weaponry albeit."

"How so?" Rukia was immediately suspicious, part of her knowing yet denying what the former Taichou was going to say next.

"Why.." Urahara feigned innocence, "you must learn to use each other's Zanpaku-tos from now on. At least until I have a solution to- our um...little problem."

Both her and Ichigo's reactions were simultaneous.

"No way!"

-TBC..

Disclaimer: don't own Bleach.

AN: Thanks for reading :)

No flames-haters-stupid comments!

Reviews appreciated :)


	2. Chapter 2

_Was it her or were the buildings somehow different seeming?_

Warily glancing about, Rukia suspected they were, or at the very least the sword had been doing some spring cleaning since the buildings looked a little.._straighter_. Casting quick looks down to her shihakusho every few minutes, she advanced further along the large gray side of the skyscraper. _Where was he?_ Rukia had expected the spiritual form of the Zanpaku-to to appear behind her with his cloak flowing in the wind like some kind of dashing- she had to stop comparing the baka-sword to Mr. Rochester. _Ishida had recommended Jane Eyre and a few other old classics translated from English to Japanese the first day of the vacation her Taichou had oh-so kindly granted for her saying she hadn't seen her human friends in a while._

Rukia concurred, but could've done without certain things-namely a certain orange-haired idiot. _Since Ishida's book list had drawn a thinly disguised sneer from Ichigo and a sharp thwack from her book bag to his head seconds later_. _The baka had deserved it...making fun of her precious books like that!_ Nodding to herself in agreement about the sub's increasing idiocy-rather than decreasing the longer they knew each other, it perhaps did escape her notice, the figure watching her avidly from a distance.

(*)*)*)*)*)*)

_Why wasn't she making faces, or-or showing any signs of maltreatment? _Ichigo took a moment to glower at the sword laying across Rukia's knees, remembering all the times he had suffered Zangetsu's rough treatment. _Unless the old man was gentle with her...fooled 'cause of her girly outward appearance-?_ He shuddered at the mental image that conjured up.

_Rukia could be as sugary sweet like any other real girl but when it came down to it, she could hit as hard as any guy he knew- or better. Little bitch_... scowling to himself, the orange-haired Shinigami sub favored the plain gold-guard and red hilted Zanpaku-to in his lap with another disapproving glare. He was definitely not looking forward to meeting Ice woman again.

_Not after the sub-zero freeze she had oh-so delicately dealt out by the tips of her tiny fingers_.

"Well, get going Kurosaki-kun!"

Ichigo didn't miss the cheery note in Urahara's voice. "I'm going! I'm going!" his amber eyes shot death-glares to the man sitting with a folded knee on a nearby boulder; he just knew the perverted shopkeeper was hoping for another glimpse-perhaps a peek up Rukia's skirt if she managed to release Zangetsu.

The wink and slight wave off of the white paper fan only added to the classic gleeful image of a dirty old man.

He just hoped Zangetsu _wasn't_ showing his age and trying to steal peeks either.

Shaking his head even harder to rid his thoughts _especially_ of that image, he closed his eyes determined to face whatever the so-called most beautiful sword in- correction- the living world threw at him.

(*)*)*)*)*)*)

She walked back and forth. _Nothing_. This was aggravating. When she wanted..well not really, since she wished it were her own Zanpaku-to, so Rukia couldn't rightly say she wanted to see _him_. But damned Urahara and his ridiculous ideas! She preferably wanted to see the shopkeeper die a painful- drawn out death for suggesting they try simply exchanging Zanpaku-tos.

Both had been repulsed by physical shock at the merest touch of their rightful sword hilts. _But then_... her mind worked furiously, aided by the fact that _he_ was nowhere in sight. _Maybe it had been a onetime fluke, the night before had only been the initial discharge of their respective powers colliding_- _sure the mindscape was different, but maybe if she called her_...

In truth she was willing to try anything. Even if it was grasping at straws.

"Are you there..Sode no..Shirayuki?" Rukia whispered, wishing with all her might that the beautiful kimono-clad Yuki-onna would appear before her in sedate elegance.

Instead however...

"_That_. Is not my name." The distinct tones resonated from behind her carrying a mild affront to them.

Rukia whirled about, her heart in her throat. "You-!"

There he stood, taller than her yet not quite reaching Ichigo's 5'8 height. Slender arms encased in sleeves that ended in tatters, legs in slim form-fitting pants, the cloak that resembled more a dress the longer she looked at it, flowed about past knee-height despite the lack of wind.

"I didn't see you!" She _had been_ terribly disappointed that her own sword hadn't answered the call, but a little more than relieved that he _had_ appeared. The only thing was, she felt like a traitor with that relief. So, it only contributed to her crossness when he pointed back to a slanting neighboring skyscraper saying as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I was over there."

She wanted to strangle something really badly now. "Why didn't you-"

He looked back at her impassively, then it occurred to her that she hadn't _called him_. _Great..this was really going well_. She vindictively hoped that baka Ichigo was having as many problems if not more with **her** Sode no Shirayuki. _Perverted baka Urahara and his stupid ideas!_

_First thing's, first_. "Zangetsu.." strangely she liked the way his name rolled off her tongue. "_I_ am going to be your wielder for now-"

"I heard everything that was said." He interrupted carelessly. "I knew you were to be my wielder from the moment you appeared in this mindscape. However.." somehow Rukia didn't like that tiny smirk lifting one corner of his mouth. "To be my wielder you must first say my name."

Her mouth opened and closed several times, each time the articulation less and less coherent. Finally she managed to get out, "your name is Zangetsu! I'm no fool! That's-" then something from the inner recesses of her memory came into recall. _Hadn't Ichigo said once...that Zangetsu was an old man? _She was sure this was **no** old man!

The sword shook his head slightly in some disappointment.

"I believe the time for that lesson is in order." his right arm lifted from his side, fingers snapping. "If you are worthy of bearing me as your Zanpaku-to.."

She let out a startled cry as a wave of light washed over them.

"..then find me...Rukia!"

When she opened her eyes, she found he had disappeared, leaving behind a thousand swords with black blades and four-pronged guards stuck blade-down into the level surfaces of the buildings.

(*)*)*)*)*)*)

Ichigo felt the coldness on his face and opened his eyes. The snow had stopped for which he was glad, realizing for the first time the chill seeping through his thin shihakusho. The sword had disappeared from his sash which made his searching fingers halt momentarily at the scathing crystalline female tones.

"Why have you come?" The stunningly beautiful woman came into being from the very air it seemed. A slight icy nip brushed across his skin- _what he was fast coming to know as her trademark_.

"I'm here to wield you, Sode no Shirayuki." As with everything, his confidence shone in his voice. For Zangetsu such willful strength had been enough, which he assumed would also impress _her_. However, Ichigo was somewhat taken aback by the white sword's response.

A silvery laugh rippled throughout her delicate form, faded blue eyes narrowing in mirth.

"Is that all a Zanpaku-to means to you, Kurosaki Ichigo? As an instrument, a means of protecting those whom you would extend your hand to, by wielding a sword as though it is a dumb horse and you its master?"

_Horse..that sounded familiar_. "N-No! You've got it all wrong! I never..." the words wouldn't come. True, he never spoke to Zangetsu unless he was dying or in need of guidance on a battlefield. Perhaps he had taken his partner a little...for granted.

_But, certainly he had never thought of Zangetsu as a horse! _His eyes flashed dangerously, his jaw clenching. "I am here to wield you, Sode no Shirayuki. I will not leave until you yield the sword in your hand to me." His gaze drifted down to the curling white ribbon and slender white tang attached to the circular guard. The slim fingers tightened minutely.

_The sword she had, was the true Zanpaku-to_. Urahara had told he and Rukia as much. _The one the spirit wielded_...

"I see you will not be put off then." Her hand half rose, for a moment Ichigo had hopes that she would quietly concede the Zanpaku-to to him. But, these were dashed as snowflakes began to drizzle from the sky. "Your persistence is most unusual for a human," for a moment it seemed the coldness in her eyes lessened, her mouth relaxing in a thin, straight line. "However, know this, I will never release for anyone other than Kuchiki Rukia.._willingly_. You must prove yourself worthy of bearing me as your Zanpaku-to, Kurosaki Ichigo!"

The whipping winter wind grew stronger, flakes spun faster, harder until the Zanpaku-to's form had melted away into them leaving only the call of a howling blizzard to swallow up the plain.

(*)*)*)*)*)*)

She had gone through four rows without finding anything. Though as a matter of course, Rukia had no idea what to look for. They all looked the same, were lifeless without a glow or a spark to let her know which was the true one. But, then again, she had to remember with some aggravation at the ridiculousness of it all.

_Zangetsu __wanted__ her to find him_.

So, there wouldn't be any hint or clue to go by. Her brow creased, her hand fisting around the black hilt of the fourth one deep in the row. _Stupid sword_...flinging the one she had over her shoulder, she moved on clearing out the row as she went with barely a glance at them. _The most obvious thing would be for the real Zangetsu to be the very last one._

The sooner she got this over with..._but then the sword wasn't a bad sort_. Certainly not what she was used to, him being a male after all. Though Rukia had never said anything, knowing how inflated Ichigo's ego would get..._she had always thought that...his bankai was kind of nice_.

_So, then wasn't she lucky in a way to be able to call that power her own? ..If even_-

Suddenly she sensed it.

A change in the still air as energy coursed on a wavelength.

Rukia turned slowly, her eyes falling on the sword that glowed with an iridescent, indigo light.

There he was.

(*)*)*)*)*)*)

The woman was interesting. Her reactions especially were of interest to the sword who remained, static. Unmoving where she had tossed him. Being the first one on the first row, he had entertained the notion that while Ichigo's intelligence was sometimes questioned, the human had at least possessed the desire to wield _him_ as a sword.

Therein lay the heart of the matter.

If Kuchiki Rukia wanted to wield him then all else would fade away, leaving nothing but he- as the true form of the Zanpaku-to sealed ready for her command to release him.

Yet she hadn't done so.

Her heart was plain to his eyes as keen though invisible as they were.

Kuchiki Rukia wanted not to wield another sword save the other, Sode no Shirayuki. It was this desire, selfish and self-defeating that wouldn't allow her to see the indigo hued glow that surrounded the single black sword lying farthest away.

_This_, the sword had to admit, _was the most disappointing_.

Their connection faint through the spirit ribbon that had fused them together, strengthened minutely. The sword perceived her thoughts then, the subtle change that brought them closer. He allowed the air to vibrate. Reiatsu that contained remnants of Ichigo's coalesced with that of ice. Lacking the snow Zanpaku-to, even then her reiatsu still possessed a touch of icy coolness that was somehow pleasant to him.

_Rukia_..

Her saw her eyes widen, her lips part. He particularly enjoyed the various expressions she made. Surprise. Annoyance. Anger. Then chagrin at herself. In such a form without lips to speak or a throat to modulate even the most guttural of sounds; the sword wanted to laugh.

_She was adorable; _alternately frowning and berating herself without words.

Then, she came, bending slightly. For a moment, the hand she extended, reaching for his hilt was reminiscent of another.

_Say it_. _Now_.

But, that was all gone now. She, not Ichigo was his wielder.

"T-Tensa Zangetsu-?"

He tried not to mind her hesitance.

(*)*)*)*)*)*)

_Tensa_...

It took more than a moment for her to recall the name of Ichigo's ban-kai. That was the most logical answer, right? _Tensa Zangetsu_...

She liked the name.

The outfit she had woken up in, the swords she saw now were all the ban-kai. _So, was it possible-?_

Maybe. The possibility of it wasn't so far-fetched as for her to disregard the notion. Ichigo had said Zangetsu was old, this one...was young as far as she could tell. Irritably her mind conjured up the slight half-smirk/smile and that damned hood hanging over his face! From all outward appearances she was positive he was a young man! So, did that mean...

_Zangetsu was old and Tensa Zangetsu was young?_

She had never heard of any Zanpaku-to changing in appearance with each release phase. _Then, was that why...he had seemed almost insulted being called by the shikai name?_ Rukia scowled to herself, _what had she done to deserve such a enigmatic spirit? Mr. dark and mysterious indeed! _

_But._.. her eyes fell on the first sword she had taken from the original row, the resonation came from it. She had to wonder..._just how would Byakuya nii-sama take it- if of course a solution wasn't found and she remained with the black moon cutter as a Zanpaku-to?_

Rukia thought somehow she didn't really want to imagine his reaction. Rather focus on the present as her fingers slipped around the black and red hilt, uncertainty making her voice a quiet tremor.

"T-Tensa Zangetsu-?"

Like before, light flashed, the false swords vanished into it, melding into the spiritual form of the true Zanpaku-to, bent on one knee.

"You understood..." the tiny smile was back. "_Finally_. Took you long enough."

"As if I had any help from you!" She snapped then realized in a way...it was wrong. But, he didn't seem to care. "I am yours then," in his hands, latent reishii from the atmosphere gathered, Rukia felt the subtle drain on her power as the Zanpaku-to took shape. The familiar hilt appeared then the guard seemingly smaller than she remembered, then instead of the scabbard, black bandages were wrapped about the dark as night tang shaded on the cutting edge with the same indigo hue as his aura.

Her eyes ran over it, a small sense of pride replacing even if momentarily her doubts. _This was hers now_. With a slight nod from him, her hand extended, grasping the hilt. Rukia lifted it up, watching as the bandages unraveled becoming coal black links of a long chain.

"So.. this is really you." There was awe in her voice, understanding filled her that the other sword had been afterimage left behind from Ichigo. "You're amazing." She hadn't meant to say so much aloud, particularly after being annoyed with the sword about ten minutes previously. However, she found it wasn't a bad thing, as another smile curved his mouth.

She discovered this was one was by far the most pleasing. It didn't seem like he was sneering at her now. _Maybe this wouldn't be so hard_... it was with these thoughts in mind that she knelt suddenly, placing the newly won blade aside. A tiny smirk was on her lips as she raised her hands to hover on either side of the hood.

"It's only fair that I get to see what you really look like now that you're mine..." Rukia couldn't explain the unexpected impulse, her fingers curling around the black fabric that had a roughness to it. _She just knew she had to see his face_.

With a simple flick of her wrist, she had thrown it back, revealing the smooth expanse of youthful skin, narrow yet expressive dark brown eyes and the thick strands of tousled dark hair falling around his countenance.

For moments neither spoke, then his eyes crinkled a little in the corners, amusement a thin curve of his mouth- what Rukia judged to be a very masculine approach to a grin, despite her rising annoyance at constantly being his source of entertainment, her heartbeat sped up just the slightest even though she didn't know why. _It was just a grin, for Gods sakes! _

"Like..what you see?" The faintest hint of a tease, bordering on oh-so seriousness was a somewhat deadly combination Rukia found.

She couldn't help it, she blushed.

-TBC...

AN: no real manga timeline and this isn't IchiRuki so please stop asking. I have some plans for Hichi so there is no fusion since I definitely liked Tensa's design pre-fusion mangaverse. Thanks for reading.

No flames-haters-stupid comments!

Please review C:

PS: The title means: Indigo Dye


	3. Chapter 3

"Shira-a-a-yuki-i-i!" For a time that was all Ichigo did. That is until his throat stung from the flurries and his arms and legs felt like they were cased in ice. He hadn't a clue on what to do. Sure, he had won his ban-kai from Zangetsu...but that was different.

He'd had to _fight_ to get it.

Not...use his head to get inside the head of the delicate -yet surprisingly evil snow woman.

_Dammit..!_ Ichigo brushed his hand across his face, wiping away the melted flakes clinging to his eyelashes making it difficult to see. Thinking was most certainly not his forte.

Glowering and cursing as he trudged onward, he did not realize he was being watched from above by pensive faded blue eyes that narrowed into slits with each deprecatory mutter about her beloved snow.

(*)*)*)

"-You baka!" So, her fist flew out of its own accord. _Habit_- Rukia told herself when she had planted it square in the middle of his chest. Habit and maybe since she felt like she was being made a fool of and that irritated her more than anything.

"You...hit me." The note of surprise that colored his tone made her freeze. Blinking rapidly, she quickly backed up, cradling her newly won sword close to her body, thinking he might try to take it back. "Yeah, so what?" She tried to hide the fact that her heart had continued pounding though more from worry of repercussion from her impulsiveness.

"I hit Ichigo all the time!"

"I know." He said without much change in expression.

She had to respond to that, "then, why are you so surprised?"

The sword rose to his full height which like many others meant that he practically towered over her. "Because. I somehow doubt that you would've done the same to Sode no Shirayuki."

Her gaze slanted guiltily away. She had to concede he had a point there, but that didn't mean she was going to admit it out loud. "Why do you have to be so freakishly tall?" Changing subjects was nearly the same as admitting defeat in the verbal warfare, although she had the sneaking suspicion the sword though relatively silent had a sharp-if not _dry sarcastic_ tongue.

Again, almost no change in expression save for the slightest twitch at the corner of his mouth which she had to crane her neck up to catch. "Perhaps it is simply because you are so small?"

That did it.

Rukia glared at him then stomped out of the mindscape, determined that at least for the moment, she would rather not learn anymore about her new Zanpaku-to.

He was too aggravating!

(*)*)*)

The development was an interesting one per se. The sword particularly enjoyed her reaction in the color that suffused her cheeks. He hadn't thought she would be so susceptible to the teasing, the kind of which he had never been able to play on Ichigo. _Poor boy_...

It wouldn't have been nearly as entertaining however unexpected it would've been for his former wielder to hear those same words coming from his older self.

_Old man Zangetsu indeed_...

Then, again, her fist didn't hurt as much as Ichigo claimed it did.

"You...hit me." It felt like no more than a pat. He had certainly withstood harder hits from Ichigo and the Hollow. For the latter, the sword could only think _good riddance_.

"Yeah, so what?" For all of Rukia's bravado, he could see right through her.

She was a terrible liar.

"I hit Ichigo all the time!"

"I know." That and being called a _baka_, the sword amended silently.

"Then why are you so surprised?" he wasn't surprised that she didn't let it go.

"Because. I somehow doubt that you would've done the same to Sode no Shirayuki." Tensa stood, feeling her eyes dart about searching for something to say. When she did finally- her gaze drifted back to him, annoyance evident in her tone.

"Why do you have to be so freakishly tall?" True to Ichigo's height and the length of the previous shikai before she remade it; he was 5'8. _This_, made him smile a little again. His petite little wielder was always so self-conscious about her height...a fact that hadn't escaped his notice beforehand.

"Perhaps it is simply because you are so small?"

The reaction garnered was his favorite so far. An eye twitch and a glare, the mouth working and the arms shaking, longing to sink her fist somewhere where it would _hurt_. The one thing he did notice was that she didn't relinquish her death-grip on the sword.

She _wanted_ to be his wielder now.

And that would make all the difference in the world with what was coming.

(*)*)*)

The most beautiful Zanpaku-to in all of the living world-er Seireitei was going to have to stay that way! With the latter title, Ichigo told himself, scowling and cursing all the painful passage back into his body.

What he expected and most certainly was going to demand it back- was Zangetsu's plain katana form lying across Rukia's lap and for Rukia herself to be terribly upset the old man didn't want her to be his wielder.

Just like Ice woman.

What the sub wasn't expecting however, were Rukia's large eyes to turn to him glowing and for the sword in her hands to resemble...something else?

"Ichigo! Where's-" those eyes looked around searching for something then fell to Sode no Shirayuki's stubborn, unreleased state. If there was ever a time-which was quite often, that Ichigo wanted to murder the midget, it was now. Badly.

"You couldn't pass her test?" Rukia's smirk was slow, triumph written all over her face.

Ichigo felt betrayed. _Stupid old man_... "What do you think?" Snapping made him feel a little better, rising with a few foot stomps to make a hasty break for the exit before the midget could come up with any more smart comebacks.

"Kurosaki-kun..." Urahara's voice stopped him.

"What is it?" his voice dripped menace.

"You're giving up? I thought you said you weren't going to go home this evening until Sode no Shirayuki was in your hands?"

Ichigo just stared at the shopkeeper, hearing for the first time the delighted tinkle of the yuki onna's approximation of a giggle in his head.

That did it...this meant war!

-TBC...

AN: had to hurry it up since the old lady was being evil. :P

Thanks for reading :)

No flames!

Reviews loved and appreciated! C:


	4. Chapter 4

"Rukia is...interesting." The word failed to convey most of the depth of fascination, possibly gratitude as the world was no longer as crooked. It was nearly _straight_. The occurrence, Tensa knew to be the uprightness of the petite girl's soul. The fieriness was just an added amusement.

"Interesting?" Sode no Shirayuki murmured as though she found the word distasteful, contrary to her liking. The yuki-onna resplendent in her flickering white soft on the edges by light blue. Her lips pursed, two eyes like ice chips focusing on her counterpart- or as one might have remarked on had any living soul been privileged to witness the meeting of the polar opposites- for that was what they were.

Complete opposites of one another.

His hair of the blackest night falling to his chin, swathed in black from head to foot. His eyes were keen and sharp, able to perceive flaws and weaknesses; while Shirayuki's were soft yet sometimes reflected hardness like the coldest winter.

She wasn't happy.

"And...what of Ichigo?"

Sode no Shirayuki was _too_ lady-like to spit. However, she sufficed a near enough twist to her delicate features countenancing severe despise. "He is..an arrogant, cocky teenager whom lacks delicacy in all form." she said, fluttering a pale snow-encrusted fan over her face.

"Ah...that sounds correct for the boy's normal behavior." _How the boy's address of: __**old man**__ had often irked him beyond measure_. Zangetsu hadn't been overly fond of correction so Ichigo had been allowed to slide all those times, whereas now, Tensa begged to differ.

The boy needed...as the beautiful yuki-onna was apt to teach him; delicacy- a trait Tensa said more plainly as manners in respect to one's elders.

Not that he considered himself an _old man_...

"Such as befitting a brute." Sode no Shirayuki pronounced haughtily.

Tensa agreed more or less, "don't worry." He said tonelessly, "the boy will come around soon enough."

The yuki-onna's lip curled delicately, giving light to exactly how she felt about Ichigo accepting her as his Zanpaku-to. "And what of...Rukia?"

"What of her?" Tensa asked sharply, a little too much it seemed as Sode no Shirayuki's ice blue eyes narrowed in suspicion on his face. He kept his expression neutral, erasing anything that had surfaced previously, escaping his rigid guard.

"..Nothing." She murmured after an eon had passed. "We will see...we will see in _time._"

...

Ichigo ignored her for the better part of two days.

An act that she thought was amusing since it was her- or was formerly her Zanpaku-to that Ichigo was pissed off at. For what reason, she wasn't exactly sure, oh she had caught Urahara in secret conference with Tessai, about procuring certain items indispensible to frostbite and other items to avoid frostbite.

She smiled then.

It seemed Sode no Shirayuki was having a difficult time adhering to the new scheme of weaponry- a trait that _her_ new Zanpaku-to didn't seem to care about one way or another.

"Feel it." He called boredly, watching with folded arms and mute disapproval as she failed once again to withdraw his released form. Rukia fumed silently, a nasty suggestion near to falling from her tongue as to the proper way Zanpaku-to should behave when they happen to not be the same ones a Shinigami was born with.

Ergo, they didn't share a soul like the moon cutter insisted they now did.

Instead; she wore- by threatened strike, if that was even possible, her old black shihakusho with the difference of no scabbard at her waist. Tensa had said nothing when she had flat-out declared she would not wear the stylized outfit-

But, he had smiled slightly when she had agreed, it was for the best if she just accepted him as her sword. That smile did something funny to her stomach, not that Rukia would've admitted it. Grumpily then, she had put her back to him and begun practicing releasing shikai.

To no apparent avail.

_Stupid, stubborn sword_- she ground out in her mind. She started when a cool hand fell over hers, and a gentle but firm grip was applied to her wrist. "Feel me." Tensa whispered, aligning himself to the outline of her body, Rukia at first stiffened as his hard male form pressed against her back, then slowly let the tension drain as he spoke quietly above her head.

"What drove you from the beginning to accept my blade?"

That was easy. "Necessity." Rukia said without hesitation.

"..." Tensa shifted his grip. "And what do you let hold you back from accepting it once more?"

Instinctively it was more difficult to answer as easily as she had done before. What was it...exactly? Definition she lacked, despite an irritation for something she couldn't put a name to, _something-something!_

"Well?" he questioned calmly in a tone implying they had an eternity to resolve everything. Impatience burned in her, despite his cool and complacent attitude, Rukia just wanted to get it over with! To...

"I don't know!" she snapped, finding it harder and harder to concentrate.

"Or don't understand." The Zanpaku-to finished.

His calmness was infuriating her for no reason. When she made no immediate reply, fuming in silence, the sword remarked, "perhaps it is not the will that is lacking."

Her lips pursed, "then what?" a hint of sarcasm tinted her voice. "You're saying I'm inept, is that it?"

An exhalation of air, the faintest sound following and she realized, somewhat stunned; that he had chuckled.

_Again!_

_At her!_

Her face started burning, she was glad he couldn't see it.

"No, Kuchiki Rukia. Merely distracted." He explained once his amusement had faded. Rukia repeated the word in her mind, even as he shifted, pressing tighter, closer-

-_distracted?_-

Too close.

His arms were over hers, slender fingers gently pulling apart her tight grip on the hilt. Rukia felt his muscles constrict and flow beneath the black cloth of the cloak, her own heart suddenly racing at a frantic pace.

"Wha-what're you..." her annoyance increased as her voice wobbled more than she liked.

_What was he_..

The sword ignored her, easing with his thighs and a careful nudging her close-legged stance to open. She flushed violently, "dammit! What the hell-!"

"Shush." Tensa ordered, a note of dormant irritation sparking in his tone. Rukia immediately fell silent, stiffly following the molding of her body. He didn't stop until they had both adopted a common Zanjutsu stance; he still cupped her hands around the upraised blade.

"What do you feel now?"

Uncomfortable- she thought angrily, outrage threatening to overcome her sensibilities. Rukia bit the inside of her mouth to keep in exactly what she thought about his method of teaching, saying tightly instead, "nothing."

The stray strands of her hair rustled at the motion of his breath. "You disappoint me then."

Rukia couldn't help it. "How so?" sharper than she had wanted.

Tensa didn't hesitate to demean. "A warrior must be on guard at all times. Ready to lend force to a blade, ready to rise up and defend those he loves. That is the true meaning of protection."

"And why don't you think I have it?"

His breath was let out as a sigh. "Perhaps it is only an ideal you were taught to defend, as a principle, a way of life. Never a person for whom you love-"

"That's not true!" Anger surged again and she struggled, trying to twist out of his hold. Tensa exerted little extra strength to maintain his grasp, mildness in his tone as he continued, "you may not desire to hear it, Kuchiki Rukia. But for the main part of your existence, you've been driven to protect a rigid set of unbreakable laws- necessary in ways of guarding the spirit world, but nevertheless not something living, breathing. You-"

"-know nothing of me!" she spat, vainly attempting to twist her elbows back into his chest.

Another drawn out sigh. "And that..."

The sword clattered from their hands.

Tensa grasped her wrists and held them high as she jerked around, her eyes flashing violet fire. Impassively he gazed at her futile struggling. "..That is what you must find."

"What?" she demanded, glaring at him, daring him to humiliate her further.

Tensa released her simultaneously as he spoke, "someone to love."

Stunned at his words more than her sudden release, Rukia stumbled back.

"What...what the hell..." her gaze swiveled to him almost accusingly, "does that mean?"

But, the sword was already gone.

...

She _was_ small.

He had known it before, but this...this was different. He could feel the fragile bones of her hand and wrist under his, the thinness of her body against his chest. He had never touched Ichigo in such a way, nor had ever felt the need to.

_But, Kuchiki Rukia was different_.

The moon cutter couldn't say how.

"Necessity." She said, answering his question. Tensa could feel the expanding motion of her lungs, the soft inhalation she took to supply her body with air. Tension thickened the atmosphere, he sensed it as well.

"And what do you let hold you back from accepting it once more?"

She seemed to have trouble breathing every time he spoke. Minutes passed and still she remained silent. He grew impatient, a hint of it escaped as a bite to his tone. "Well?"

Rukia stirred, "I don't know!" she sounded as infuriated as when Ichigo called her midget or when she was being made fun of. A thing the sword wasn't doing. He wondered why the tension in her body seemed to double the longer he maintained their position.

"Or don't understand." He was finding it slightly more difficult than anticipated to decipher her thoughts_. Perhaps it had something to do with...gender_. A scowl asserted itself on his face, coldly he went on, "perhaps it is not the will that is lacking."

"Then, what?" Rukia snapped, showing more of that spitfire he was used to seeing directed at Ichigo. "You're saying I'm inept, is that it?"

He chuckled quietly unable to suppress it.

Kuchiki Rukia was infinitely more amusing than his former master.

A moment passed, the notion of gender reoccurring in his thoughts. _Perhaps it was because Sode no Shirayuki was female_..

"No, Kuchiki Rukia. Merely distracted." Tensa covered her arms with his, maneuvering her body into the proper stance; she immediately protested, fidgeting and growling out things which he found peculiar.

_She was a Shinigami, weren't the movements obvious?_

_Didn't she recognize the basic Zanjutsu stance?_

Slightly confused by the things that went through unseen in her mind; Tensa soon had her in satisfactory position. "What do you feel now?" He expected the anticipation of a warrior, the adrenaline rush to strengthen her hold on the hilt...

_Nothing_.

She said as much, irritation showing in her sullen tone.

The first tendrils of frustration ate away at his patience. "You disappoint me then."

"How so?" she retorted just as quickly.

"A warrior must be on guard at all times. Ready to lend force to a blade, ready to rise up and defend those he loves. That is the true meaning of protection." Tensa proceeded to explain, an edge to his voice that was instinctive for her to pick up on. _He was severely displeased. She was not advancing as much as he had anticipated_- at least that was what he meant to convey.

He realized her mood was combatant soon enough.

"And why don't you think I have it?"

A challenge lay beneath her words.

He sighed deeply."Perhaps it is only an ideal you were taught to defend, as a principle, a way of life. Never a person for whom you love-"

That did it. Her fiery nature flared up again. "That's not true!" Rukia began twisting and struggling, her small arms shaking as ineffectually she attempted to dislodge his hold on her. Tensa barely made a concession of a tighter hold, sighing even as he knew his words were futile.

"You may not desire to hear it, Kuchiki Rukia. But for the main part of your existence, you've been driven to protect a rigid set of unbreakable laws- necessary in ways of guarding the spirit world, but nevertheless not something living, breathing. You-"

"-know nothing of me!" She refused to hear it.

Tensa sighed, in some ways she was more troublesome than Ichigo ever had been. It was small sensation however, slight though it rippled in the dim recesses of his consciousness. _A feeling perhaps_- he didn't pause to consider its import, nor bearing on the petite angered Shinigami.

"And that..."

Her curled hands suddenly opened.

He- no, the black katana struck the concrete, skittering away. Tensa ignored the ringing hollow of the tang bouncing across the ground, instead, keeping a firm grasp on her thin, bony wrists, her body twisting around to face him as she pivoted, violence in the motion.

Soon they were face-to face.

Flashing violet eyes stared hard into his, unmoved, Tensa stared back into the delicate face contorted into a mask of rage. Slight emotion touched something in his chest, as a sword he disregarded it, his mask of calm wisdom slipping into place.

"..That is what you must find." He intoned as her fury worked up to its height.

Rukia glared daggers, her tone losing all politeness. "What?" she all but spat.

Tensa knew with a certainty then, that she didn't love his former master...or perhaps did not realize the emotion for what it was. There were different kinds of love, the kind she lacked, was that of the soul.

Not of the bond between Nakama.

But, of a _soul mate_.

He wondered _if Ichigo was her soul mate_.

"...someone to love." The moon cutter added for her benefit, in case her slow mind had not caught on immediately to what her soul was incomplete without.

He did not see the strangest expression flitter across her face when he let her go.

Nor heed her stammered words as she fell back.

No. Rather it was a sensation of the same as before, as foreign as the sun was to Sode no Shirayuki's frozen world; trapped in isolation had taught the Zanpaku-to solitude, and the few emotions that filtered past the barrier between Ichigo's soul and his, shared, did not compare.

_It was so...so peculiar,_ that the moon cutter could not place a name to it.

Hidden in the maze-like city; Tensa felt her go after a time, perhaps giving up calling him back. The tug was only minimal, like a subtle pressure in the pit of his stomach; Ichigo had always been much stronger. So, he had ignored it this time.

_Relief_ was too puerile a word for how he felt when the Shinigami had left, and he could venture out again among the buildings and take up his favorite spot overlooking the vast confines of the mindscape.

_His mindscape._

_Their mindscape_.

In some ways, Rukia was the same as Ichigo.

_But, in many_... Tensa closed his eyes, breathing in the same coolly icy scent that had steadily begun to permeate every layer of the mindscape; hers- her reiatsu. _It had clung to her clothing- her body_...he had felt it _and...and_...he stopped himself in time.

Thinking such things would lead to no end and were unfair to _her_ and to himself; Tensa knew.

Thoughts such as that would become burdensome...when his Shinigami fell in love.

-TBC

AN: sorry, very little Ichigo and Shirayuki. It was hard enough with Tensa...(sheesh he's difficult to write)

Thanks for reading

No flames!

Please review :)


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